


to touch the heart one needs not the body

by artsyspikedhair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry Potter, Awkward Boners, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Dissociation, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, Incest, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Touch Averse Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 02:10:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16008110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artsyspikedhair/pseuds/artsyspikedhair
Summary: Ron is curious and worried and more than slightly attracted to Harry, and Harry is honest to the breaking point.





	to touch the heart one needs not the body

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try a more dialogue-heavy fic. I came up with most of this while trying to fall asleep.

Harry and Ron were wandering around the castle grounds. The weekend had brought with it seemingly endless time, as the two boys - with Hermione's help and prompting - had miraculously finished their homework Friday night. Hermione was off joining the new Muggle History club, an activity neither boy had any interest in (Ron because he already slept through Binn's history and therefore did not trust the subject matter not to bore him, Harry because he had memories of Dudley going through a phase of being fascinated by the British colonization of Africa, and using the history [the one subject Harry didn't intentionally butcher his grades in because Dudley actually was top of his class in it] as fuel to call Harry more nasty names.) 

Ron had been trying to come up with a way to naturally bring up a subject he'd been worried about for a while. As Harry walked beside him in silence, Ron accidentally bumped into his shoulder. Harry tensed as he continued walking, the ease and joy of no responsibilities seeming to be leaking out of his body at the unexpected contact. 

Finally the quiet became too much for the redhead, and he broached the subject. "Harry we're mates, right?"

"Course we are," Harry replied, face breaking into a grin at the question. Harry still found himself amazed that now, even with first year behind him and half the school thinking he's the heir of Slytherin, he had friends. "Why're you asking?" 

"Cuz," Ron looked down, kicking at a pebble with his toe. "I wanted to ask you a question, and I want you to be straight with me." 

"I'm not gonna lie. What is it?” Harry kicked at the same rock Ron had been, trying to make a game of it. He did not like his friend acting nervous, and wondered about what could possibly make Ron act like this. 

"Are you - er- are- does my family scare you? Because, I mean I know Fred and George can be overwhelming and I've been wary of them since the spider thing, but like last year at the beginning of the year you were all jumpy whenever someone touched you or yelled and I thought you were just nervous but then this summer when you stayed at my house you were the same way with my brothers and my mum and well I don't want you to be uncomfortable." Ron finally took a breath after all that rambling, allowing Harry to get in word in edgewise. 

"What? No! That's-" Of everything Harry had imagined Ron asking, that was not it. "That's absurd! I love your family, even Percy! You were so nice, taking me in for the summer, and your parents didn't even make me do chores, and- Honestly, staying with you lot was the greatest experience of my life! I just couldn't believe it was real half the time, I kept pinching myself to make sure I was not in a passed-out fever dream or something! Everyone at the Burrow liked me, it was incredible! Even your sister talked to me a bit towards the end, rather than just breaking things and fleeing." 

Ron sighed in relief. "Mate, you stayed with us for almost a month. Ginny had just reverted back to her normal self after realizing you were a person and not just a heroic celebrity daydream." 

"Thank God for that! I did not like being treated like a -a- like how your mum treats Lockhart." 

"Can't imagine anyone does, really. Except Lockhart, but he's barmy." 

"yeah," Harry agreed. The two then settled back into their comforting silence, ignoring the glares aimed at Harry by the few students sitting by the lake. 

They had almost reached the Whomping Willow, branches in slings large enough to fit Hagrid's entire body, when Ron broke the silence again. He startled Harry a bit, as Harry had been somewhat idly scanning the area around them searching for the crash-landed now-probably-sentient Ford Angelia. 

"So -er- if it wasn't my family, what is your problem with people touching you? Er, not that it's really a problem, not for me or Hermione, or anyone really except Lockhart." Ron was trying, somewhat horribly, to hide his tiny little crush on his friend with the 'not a problem' caveat. In reality he would like to sling an arm around Harry, or hug him, or even bring those smirking lips - now muttering a "damned git" at the mention of Lockhart - against his- Shite, Ron was getting a boner. Bollocks, he thought, and tried to pay more attention to the world around him, rather than his inappropriate thoughts. 

"It's a -er- maybe we should sit down for this. It's a long story." Harry's heartbeat quickened at the thought of telling Ron why he was uncomfortable with the casual affection the Weasleys peppered him with, why he only really tolerated Hermione hugging him when they meet at the Platform or that one time before he fought Quirrel/Voldemort first year, why he flinched from Seamus', Dean's, and Neville's well-meaning attempts to wake him in time for breakfast... Harry just hoped Ron wouldn't think him a freak, or worse. 

Ron nodded, oblivious to Harry's fear as he was preoccupied with trying to will away his boner. He sat under a well shaded tree, as the two weren't in the Forest, but they were towards the still-heavily-wooded outskirts of it, where Hagrid gets the firewood from. Harry sat a few feet away from him, arms curled around his knees in a sort of self-hug, a comforting position he used to rock himself to sleep in back when he slept in a cupboard. 

"I've never really told anyone about some of what I'm gonna tell you, so can you promise not to tell anyone? Or at least not any other kids?" Harry's desperation showed through his voice, even if Ron hadn't noticed the boy's fearful posture. 

"I won't tell anyone unless I think we could use it to stop you from returning to your relatives, is that okay?" Ron was not good with reading people, but Ron had noticed his friend's fear, of course, and as he worried about what could possibly make his friend react in such a -well, childish- or, he thought, not childish, but child-like way, all thoughts of his own sexuality vanished and his member went flaccid naturally. 

"Yes, please, if you think it could convince McGonagall or Dumbledore not to send me back, I would love that. I hate it there. I- well, maybe I should start with why I hate it there." Harry paused and, wanting to do something with his hands, picked a blade of grass and began tearing it in a perfect vertical half. 

"My aunt has always hated me, I think, or, at least, she hates me when she's sober. My uncle just sort treats me like a particularly nasty spider or like something that got stuck on his shoe - like I'm a problem to be dealt with but he can't afford to deal with it now so he just tolerates me. My cousin, well, he was always encouraged to take his anger out on me. At my house it wasn't 'don't hit people,' it was 'don't hit mommy or daddy, go hit Harry, he's the freak so he deserves to be hit while your parents love you and don't." 

"That- that's awful!" Ron tried to imagine his parents encouraging his siblings to hurt each other, but could not think of anything worse than his parents encouraging his siblings to berate and degrade each other, which actually happened quite a bit, but was nothing compared to being beaten. A child raised to believe violence wasn't just a last resort, but sometimes right rather than merely a necessary evil - the thought sickened Ron. He remembered Harry's uncle grabbing his foot that fateful night Harry escaped, and remember his mum healing it, not bothering to ask how Harry had broken his ankle. 

"I know that now, but as a child it was just life. For many years the only time anyone touched me was to hurt me, or by accident while they taught me to do my chores. I mean, I must've been changed as a baby and stuff, but I can't remember it. Up until I was seven, I think, my only experience with human contact was my cousin and his friends beating me up, or my aunt slapping me as punishment for getting higher grades than my cousin." 

"That wasn't, like, a disciplinary slap, right? Like my dad spanked the twins when they tried to force me into an Unbreakable Vow, but based on what you're saying, these weren't for, like, major crimes?" 

"Nope." 

"Well, I can understand why you don't like being touched then, if you're not used to it." 

"That's not-" Harry shook his head, knowing if he didn't tell Ron he might never tell anyone. "Not the entire reason. I also- you know how I said 'up until I was seven?'" 

Ron nodded, face curled in a disgust Harry knew was not aimed at him, but rather at the disgusting ideas of what else Harry might've lived through. Harry almost hoped Ron had imagined what Harry was about to tell him - if he could fill in the blanks himself, maybe Harry wouldn't have to force the words out. But Harry began the saga anyway, mind feeling far away, like he was behind a wall of glass, when his body reacted to the memories his words were describing. 

"When I was seven, my aunt drank like three glasses of wine one day-it was morning- before unlocking me from my cupboard-" Ron winced, having heard of the cupboard before, "and leading me upstairs to the guest room, where I normally was only allowed in when I had to clean before my Aunt Marge visited. My cousin and my uncle were out doing some 'male bonding' - I think they went to a history museum or something before going to a boxing match, my cousin loved both history and violent sports - and so my aunt told me, for the first time ever, about my mum." 

Ron gasped, knowing how much Harry cherished information about his parents. Finally another piece fell into place on why Harry seemed satisfied only ever really being told stories of his father. "Why?" Ron asked. He had been under the impression Harry's aunt hated his mother because she was magical. 

"She needed an excuse to ensure I kept quiet, and, considering my uncle hates hearing anything about my freak parents, it was the one thing I could only get from her. Up until then I hadn't even known my parents' names. She told me my mum was named Lily, and that day had been Lily's birthday. Then she lied on the bed, and motioned me to as well, and told me that to celebrate my mum's birthday she was going to pretend to love me the way my mum would've." 

"What?" Ron exhaled the word in angry confusion. "Why? What'd she do?" 

Harry hunched in on himself further, back against the tree in an almost-hook shaped. "I dunno why." He answered quietly. He was scared Ron would think he was a freak, a pervert, but he hadn't known it was wrong back then! His friend wanted an answer though, and Harry was horrid at refusing his friends. "Then she kissed me, like, not a motherly kiss the way she would Dudley, but like a grown up tongues and bodies pressed together kiss." 

"That's- she's disgusting! Harry, you know I'm going to have to tell-" 

"That wasn't all she did. She- she would do it every year on the day, up until I left for Hogwarts. But, well, you remember that day that weird guy professor came to the dorm and told us about wizarding puberty?" 

Ron's face drained of color. She had? He had? Ron had been wanting things from someone who had been-? Ron couldn't finish thinking his sentences, his body filling with guilt and self-hatred regarding his emotions - and more physical reactions- towards Harry, his best friend who had been violated- "Yeah," Ron finally forced out after realizing Harry expected an answer. 

"I hadn't known it was wrong, I was just a kid, but we- my aunt - she- I liked being touched by her. I liked feeling almost loved. And but, well, I hadn't known it was wrong until we were taught about that - that whole talk about puberty and sex and con-cons-" Harry's breath came out faster and faster. Ron wasn't sure what to do - he had asked what he thought was a simple question but his best friend had been abused and traumatized and now wasn't breathing properly and the tree started shaking with Harry's uncontrolled magic. 

Ron sprinted to Hagrid's hut, pounding on the door. "Harry and I were talking but now Harry breathing weird and having accidental magic and he won't move I think we need the Hospital Wing but I can't carry him Hagrid help!" Hagrid rushed out and, seeing Harry, who'd now turned the leaves purple and was in a magically created hole in the ground, picked the panicked boy up. 

Harry curled tighter, muttering to himself as Hagrid and Ron walked to the Hospital Wing. "Nononono, no, I didn't meant to, I didn't, I-I'm a rapist nonono God no" 

Hagrid's eyes widened as he heard what Harry said, but time was of the essence as Harry's magic kept continually trying to eject Harry out of Hagrid's grasp. Within ten minutes, they'd reached the Hospital Wing. 

"What now?" Pomfrey asked, annoyed after having to fix yet another Slytherin boy's failed attempt to Engorgio his penis. "Mr. Potter, should've known. What's the matter with him?" 

"'e go' magic comin' out uncontrolled 'n' 'e was mutterin' 'bout rape." Hagrid reported as the boy's magic finally became too strong against the giant and Harry flew out of his hold, hurtling to the nearest corner and making Madam Pomfrey's stethoscope defy gravity. 

Ron told Pomfrey an abridged version of Harry's mucked up past as Pomfrey spelled calming droughts into Harry before trying a Cheering Charm. Neither worked, so finally Pomfrey tried a Strengthening Solution. "It strengthens the senses too, so maybe he'll realize he's not in the past," she explained to the somewhat distraught twelve year old next to her. The solution worked, but Harry was now scared he had been petrified while out with Ron. 

"W-wha' happened? Did the monster get me? Is Ron- Oh Ron thank God you're okay! How long was I-" 

"You have not been petrified, Mr. Potter. You and Mr. Weasley here had been discussing your childhood and you began to have a flashback." 

"Oh. Oh. Do you hate me?" Harry asked Ron, so earnest it metaphorically broke Ron's heart. 

"No! Harry, you were the victim in the situation, and I understand perfectly why you don't like being touched now, and I'm sorry I made you remember all that horrible stuff."

"But- but- my aunt was drunk and drunk people can't consent and I'm the man so I should've fought-" 

"Harry," Madam Pomfrey soothed, foregoing professionalism entirely. "Child, dear, children can't consent either." 

"But I wanted -" 

"Your wants, I hate to say it, did not matter. Your aunt was the adult, she had an obligation to protect you. She betrayed the relationship. Tell me, if you had known what you would end up doing, would you have entered the guest room that first night?" 

"N-no." 

"Therefore you were not at fault. You are not a rapist, Harry, you are a twelve year old child." 

Madam Pomfrey turned to Ron. "Healing his mind will take far more time than his body, and I will need to floo the Ministry. You might want to leave, the aurors will contact you via owl if your memories are needed. Thank you for bringing him here, and thank you again for being such a friend that he could trust you." 

"You're- you're welcome, Madam Pomfrey. And Harry?" Harry looked at Ron, desperately wanting to believe Ron would still want to be his friend after everything. "When you're let out, I want to play another match of chess with you." 

Harry's smile could light a candle. "You're on!" He replied, with all the childish excitement at games he should've been privileged to his entire life.


End file.
